Crazy in love
by SwordStitcher
Summary: Valentines special! How hard is it to woo a certifiable inmate of Arkham? Hard. Dead Switch gets a boyfriend and it's a classic Romeo and Juliet love story. Sort of. It is Arkham City, after all.
1. Stalkers and guns

A/N: This is just an excuse to write absolute fluff and then break all your hearts. I lwanted to write a different side of Switch from the eyes of someone other than her. Meet Paxton, my Arkham City putz. He had a minor role in the game, he was the unfortunate Two-Face lackey that was on the Riddler payroll. You may have seen him pop up now and again in Neon Green and he sorta has a thing for Switch. Maybe he should be in Arkham instead of Blackgate. He's slightly different to the game character but aren't they all?

Enjoy the random love stories, children and after the day I've had, some lovely reviews would make a vast improvement. ;)

* * *

Paxton Difornio was a petty criminal, even he knew it. His rap sheet was one long list of sometimes stupid but mostly typical crimes. Assault, battery, battery with intent, theft, intimidation… He was a typical thug in many respects, but he was considerably brighter than many of his contemporaries, for instance he could spell contemporaries. It hardly seemed fair that he would end up in Arkham City after his latest appearance in front of a judge but it seemed just blowing your nose wrong would get you sent there.

Arkham City was a hellhole. It was a pit of sin and depravity. You were more than likely to be stabbed for what meagre things you'd managed to grab and keep, unless you joined a gang. Not Joker's gang, obviously. Joker shot his guys for fun. Penguin would only accept you if you beat out a hundred others, the only gang he could join was Two-Face's lot. Dent wanted to be a big player in Arkham City and he was accepting anyone who wanted to help him. In fact, he'd just taken the courthouse as his base of operations.

Thus, Paxton found himself signing up with Dent. His stock with Two-Face rose considerably when it became apparent that he was a doer. He could manage the other men, marshal them into doing what Face wanted, improvise when it was called for and he had a great sense for opportunity while retaining one sterling quality. He wasn't vying for promotion of any kind. He did not want Face's job. He just wanted safety and security which was in scarce supply in Arkham City.

Within weeks Paxton had become one of Face's trusted lieutenants. Things for Pax looked perfect. He was out of immediate danger as long as he was clever about it, Face trusted him, and being so close to the food drop-off gave them the advantage they needed to corner the foodstuffs market in this depraved place. It was all going so well.

Then She came along and things began to get complicated for Paxton.

She was watching Face's territory, he knew she was. Occasionally he would see her on the roof of a building, watching the comings and goings of the courthouse. But whenever he sent men up there to grab her, she would be gone.

He didn't mention it to Face, after all the man would only be angry that Paxton hadn't pinned her down yet. He would bring the subject up once they had her in the cell next to that insane psychopath Calendar Man.

Face could do whatever he wanted to her at his leisure.

More than once he'd wondered why she was watching them. What kind of information she was gathering and for whom. He wouldn't put it past Penguin but Joker seemed unlikely. He didn't need spies, just some big ass thugs to abduct someone. That was more Joker's style.

And then, after a drop-off, he saw her in the window of the dilapidated flats behind the courthouse. She was watching the crates of food Paxton had worked so hard to keep being taken down into the cells. As always, he was going to play cat and mouse with her, only this time he was going to go and get her himself. He was sick of his men constantly telling him she was a ghost. Incompetent idiots.

He dodged out of her sightline and pressed himself against a wall, much to his fellows' confusion. 'Whatcha doin' Pax?' Beef muttered under the mask the thugs were required to war at all times to signify who they worked for.

'D'you see the furthest most window on the second floor?' Paxton hissed.

'Uh…Yeah?'

'Is she still there?' He demanded.

'Who Lieu-'

'The fucking woman in the fucking window Beef!' Paxton snarled.

'Uh…Eyuh.'

'Good. Round up some of the lads and get one on every exit out of those flats.' Paxton whispered.

'Difornio, what's goin' on?'

'Someone's spyin' on Face. I'm gonna find out who it is.'

With that he whipped around the corner and headed for a rotten door that lead to the outer staircase.

The entire building should have been condemned. Hell, it probably was. The rotten, sub-par plasterwork of the public stairway littered the floor in damp masses; it peeked out of snow and crumbled to a mushy paste around him. Some time in the past a pipe had burst and frozen in here and the ice had claimed one wall of the stairs.

Getting in was easy enough, she'd left the door unlocked. He half-expected her to be gone, she wasn't. She was stood in the middle of the room, _waiting for him_.

'Hello Mister Difornio.' She smiled. Paxton froze. How did she know his name? She was just standing there, framed by the window as moonlight flooded the dingy, mouldy room.

He'd never been this close to her in any of their encounters. She always preferred the high ground, preferred to keep some distance. Now, they were in the same room.

She was…Plain. Nothing much distinguished her from any other woman he'd ever encountered except for a thin white scar that ran through her eye. What he focused on was the scarf wrapped around her neck and tied to one side. It was bright green, with little black question marks.

'You work for Riddler?' Paxton gaped.

'Mmm, yes.' She agreed. 'My name is Dead Switch Mister Difornio.'

'The hell do you want with Two-Face?' Paxton demanded. 'You've been watching him for a while!'

'We've been watching _you_.' She chuckled. 'Not Two-Face.'

'Me?' That struck him dumb. 'The hell for?'

'What is your hearts innermost desire Mister Difornio? Money? Power? _Women?_' She stared at him dangerously, his heart could have stopped with the look, he was almost sure it did.

'Why are you asking me this?' He croaked as he stepped back.

'I have a business proposition on behalf of the Riddler. Work for us. I can assure you the benefits are excellent.'

'What if I say no?'

'I'm afraid several things will happen. You will find that the fact you've been talking to Riddler's personnel will be made public. Our little chat on loyalty will work it's way to your friends, your employer, the wider gangs. No-one likes a turncoat. No-one likes to be double crossed. Then of course it's what will happen to your frail old mum. Julietta is still in the glorious morning carehome, isn't she?'

Paxton flinched at the mention of his mother.

'Exactly how many fraudulent life insurance policies do you have out on your dear mummy, Paxton? I'm afraid we lost count.' Her smile was practically predatory.

'It's not like that.' He muttered hurriedly as sweat broke out on his neck despite the freezing temperatures.

'Oh? I'm sorry, seems a bit of bad information there. I'm given to understand that these policies all run out at the same time.'

She knew, she fucking knew and she was toying with him about it. The insurance was about the only thing his dear old mum was going to leave him. She was a terrifying old woman anyway, strict to the point that a sadist cult would consider her going too far. The money was compensation for his horrendous childhood. The only thing mother taught him was how to pick the lock of a drinks cabinet and get drunk.

'W-what are you offering?' He asked.

'What do you want?' She replied.

'I..I want to know what I'll be doing for Riddler.' That seemed to meet with her approval.

'Nothing _dangerous_ Paxton. Just listening out, giving us anything you pick up that may be of interest, perhaps the odd _babysitting job_. The same thing you do for Face, only we pay twice as well.'

'A-alright. Fine.'

Well, what other choice did he have? Fucked if he did, screwed if he didn't.

She nodded primly. 'Good. We're glad to have you on board.'

_I bet you are, you bitch._ He thought. _Riddler sure knows how to stitch people up._

She turned and glanced down out of the window as he backed away to the door. 'Oh and one more thing Paxton.'

When had she started calling him by his first name? Sometime during the threats?

'What?'

She pulled a gun from a holster, half hidden by her jacket and pointed it right at him. _But I've just agreed to work for her boss! _He babbled in the back of his mind. The majority was focused on the gun.

He seemed frozen to the spot as he stared down the snubbed nose of the gun. He couldn't move, even if he wanted to. His mind as fast as it was spinning became blank. Only one thing took his attention and it was the most trivial thing he could have possibly thought on. This close to her, with her arm outstretched, he could smell coconuts.

_Why coconuts?_

She fired and he closed his eyes, waiting for the burning agony, but it didn't arrive. Instead he heard the damp gurgling coming from behind him.

He jumped towards her in alarm and turned just as Beef collapsed to the floor, his head decorated the wall behind him.

'Tch.' She seethed. 'There's always someone bucking for promotion.' The gun was holstered and it was only then he realised she'd saved his life. Beef must have heard the entire exchange. Paxton stood no chance against a mountain of a man like him and Face was sure to award him Paxton's position for uncovering his betrayal.

'Uh…Thanks.' He muttered as she weaved around him. Two startlingly cold eyes met his, her mouth twisted up into a smile that was hesitant to show itself. 'You're welcome.'

She was gone in seconds but the smell of coconuts lingered in the frigid air. Paxton sniffed and groaned to himself.

Suddenly, he realised his life was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

'What have I just done?'


	2. Drop-off

A/N: This is what I do instead of updating _The Rules_. Jesus Christ you must all hate me.

Alright, to business. This is where the infatuation begins and the problems start. Paxton, Mannie and Zowie do not get along. That is like the understatement of the year. Edward doesn't even care as long as what he wants gets done.

* * *

It was pretty easy to watch things for Riddler. Somehow his phone had gone missing and when it had been located it now had a new contact labelled simply as "**?**". It wasn't going to take a rocket scientist to know who that was. Occasionally he'd receive a text from the number asking for information or clarification of Face's business which he'd respond to. He knew it couldn't possibly be Riddler he was taking instruction from, the man was known for keeping several layers between himself and his business. Paxton had only concluded that the person he was talking to was Dead Switch. She seemed to handle everything for him.

He hadn't seen her since that day she'd killed Beef. Her stalking of him stopped overnight, he wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. But then he'd received a text that nearly caused him a heart attack.

"Bowery, Iceberg Lounge. Seven. Arrive with the following files."

There were a dozen of them in the text.

He'd been nervous about this for a while. Meeting her again. It wasn't hard to find some reason to scuttle out towards the Iceberg. The border patrol enquired what he was doing so far out and he responded with the age old adage 'Looking for a drink.'

They'd laughed and responded with the age old reply. 'Aren't we all?'

It hadn't been too hard to get the files the madman had wanted either. No-one paid any attention to why Paxton was going into Face's office. He was the lieutenant after all.

Still, the tiny memory stick felt heavy in his pocket. He kept having to remind himself not to freak out or behave suspiciously.

Still, he was practically hyperventilating by the time he made it to the tiny square of space outside of the iceberg. It was deserted.

He turned in a full three-sixty, looking for anyone. A Penguin thug, a dead political, _anything_.

The small square was empty. It was almost unheard of. It was unnatural to him.

And then she appeared from the entrance of the Iceberg, but she wasn't alone. Flanking her on either side were two of the biggest, surliest thugs Paxton had ever seen. They unnerved him with just a look.

_Figures a woman wouldn't be walking around alone in Arkham City. _

They were giving him the evil eye. The one that said quite plainly- _'You had better not be thinking what I think you're thinking 'Cause I'd quite happily make that kind of stuff impossible for you.'_

Frightened, he looked anywhere but at them and found his gaze being matched by someone out of a window on the upper floor. Brown haired, blue eyed, wearing something green.

_My new boss I presume. _

'I…I have the files.'

He took a step towards the aloof woman but was met with a wall of meat as both thugs immediately took pains to shield the petite woman from him.

'You can give it to us.' Growled Mannie.

'Or we can break yer fingers and take it.' Zowie supplied.

'For the love of god, you two!' She snarled from somewhere behind them. 'I think I'm more than capable of conducting one _goddamn_ transaction without the need for the breaking of limbs!'

It was the first real emotion he'd ever seen out of her. The thugs instantly separated and seemed, against all probable sense, to cower away from her. The way her eyes became hard and dangerous sent an unbidden shiver down his spine. She looked absolutely capable of murder, she looked as though she were planning it right now as her gaze pinned the two heavy bruisers to the floor in terror.

She looked like his mother when she'd caught a young, foolish Paxton dipping into her weed stash. He felt his stomach shrivel.

_Fuck._

'Get inside!' Her voice dropped menacingly.

'But Switch-'

'Get inside and let me do my damn job!' She hissed.

They both flinched back from the little firecracker that seemed dwarfed by them. Two sets of angry eyes drilled into Paxton. The meaning was clear.

_You touch her, harm her, and the bits they find will be small._

Her hackles settled, though she still held an affronted look as she watched them leave.

'Seems like some dedicated bodyguards.' Paxton quipped nervously, trying to break the ice.

'Hmm,' Her eyes narrowed on the window as Mannie and Zowie took up their watchful positions. 'they have their moments.'

'Does someone like you need protection?' Paxton asked politely. 'You seem far more switched on about what's going on around here than most.'

'Switched, that's fucking funny.' The look she gave him could have laminated him to the wall. His insides twisted, but strangely not all of it was to do with fear.

'I-I didn't mean it like that!' His horrified expression was enough to thaw her body a little. She was still angry, she still held that hard look in her face, but she was no longer lashing out, at least at_ him_.

'You have the information?'

He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds and pulled out the memory stick. He held it out to her and she accepted it. Her fingers curled around the warm metal and the palm of his hand.

Her fingers were smooth, but cold, chilly even. When he pulled his hand back, it smelled of coconuts.

Something in his lower abdomen twitched.

His nerves skyrocketed.

What the hell was wrong with him?

The memory card went into her pocket instantly. 'Thank you.' She muttered and turned to leave.

'Hey, hey!' It was foolish and suicidal, but he had to ask. 'Why coconuts?'

For a full minute, she stared at him, her eyes wide in confusion. That spell was broken when she turned and laughed herself into the Iceberg without a second look.

He was left, standing alone in the street. Paxton lifted his arm and sniffed his hand. The smell of coconuts flooded his senses.

Was there such a thing as lust at first sight?

It really had been that long.


	3. You, me and a box of bandages

A/N: Poor Pax, he gets beaten up by Batman, suspects there's something going on and then finds out more than he wants to about her previous partner. I.E: She shot him in the head and he _still_ wants to impress her. Guy's gotta be crazy or just desperate. Maybe both?

A special, special thanks to Batty and L.D. for reviewing. I'm not too good with romance and fluff but I'm giving it a good go!

* * *

He shifted uncomfortably as she looked him over. It hurt to sit still, against all common sense it _hurt_ to _sit still_.

'-and then! Then he starts choking me out and shaking me at the same time!' He whined, as he pressed a relatively clean cloth with ice-cold water to his face, covering a nasty little cut above his eye. 'Wanting to know where the trophies and the riddles were!'

As soon as she'd seen him, she'd retreated to the upper floors of the warehouse and returned with a bottle of vodka.

She'd listened to his account of events before she poured a good slug of liquid pain relief into a glass, but she didn't give him it. She took a sip of the warming alcohol and stared at his bruised and battered body with that disquieting smile of hers.

Any other time, his body might have responded to the interest, not after what Batman had put him through.

'Can…Can you fix me up?' He asked her.

She snorted and took another gulp of vodka. 'I don't do first aid.' She picked up the kit next to her and tossed it at him. He caught it with fumbling, black and purple fingers. 'Never been good at fixing people up. Even myself.'

'You don't know first aid?!' He seemed incredulous. 'I've seen you with stitches everywhere! Bandaged wounds- who fixes you up then?!'

'Nigma.' She swirled the clear liquid around the tumbler.

Paxton felt a pang of jealousy. She must have seen his expression because she began to laugh. 'You think Riddler and I have something going on?'

' 'S crossed my mind.' He admitted.

She laughed all the harder and threw the rest of the alcohol down her neck. 'He's not my type. He's too old.'

Nigma was in his forties, Paxton was in his thirties. Switch was barely into her twenties. From his position, Paxton hardly felt reassured.

_It could happen. Hell it happened more often than you think._

He fumbled with the box and whined as his bleeding fingers sent a bolt of pain up his arm to join the cacophony of his headache. She wasn't entirely cruel, though. A second glass appeared and was filled with vodka. It slid across the dusty old crate he was using as a seat. 'Drink it. It'll dull the pain.'

She was right. With a few gulps of vodka, the pain in his fingers had dulled enough for him to open the box and pull out the bandages.

She took a seat on the other end of the crate, the bottle of vodka between them. For a while, nothing was said between them.

In the silence, she refilled her tumbler with a generous amount of clear alcohol.

_Say it. _

_The worst that can happen is that she says no. _

Before he had the time to chicken out, the words blurted themselves out of his mouth. 'So…A-are you seeing… anyone?'

The glass she held ground to a halt halfway towards her lips. He took a little perverse delight in the way her eyes widened in alarm but the second he saw it, it was gone and she was as impassive as ever. 'I've never had the time.' She admitted.

'So you're single?' He pushed.

'Yes.' She admitted grudgingly. He could see the spark of anger in her eyes. Maybe he'd pushed her too hard, and after that blunder with Nigma he thought the best thing was to back off.

'Sorry, is it a painful subject?'

'No,' she said simply. 'I shot my last boyfriend is all.'

'In the arm?'

'In the head.' She smirked and took another gulp of vodka as whatever courage Paxton had shrivelled up and hid itself away.

'Oh…How…Nice?' He squeaked, unsure of what to say.

'You're bleeding all over my floor Paxton.' She muttered as she resumed her slow sips.

'Ah, Shit.' He cursed and pulled a roll of sterile bandages from the box.

'You're welcome to give it a go.' She commented after a while.

'I'm sorry?' He asked.

'Impress me, and then I'll think about it.' The empty tumbler slapped against the dusty wood of the crate as she pushed herself away and moved towards the door. 'You never know, I may say yes.'

The door shut quietly, it left him in the semi-gloom with only enough light to wrap the most heavily bleeding cuts but he was smiling from ear to ear. She hadn't said yes yet, but she definitely hadn't said no. All he had to do was show her how impressive he was.


	4. Roses are red

A/N: I promised Batty I'd upload today and I am!

Again, a thank you to Batty and LaceySionis for reviewing and proving at least to me, I'm not as bad at this as I think! This is a feature length chapter for my readers!

* * *

Impressing a woman in Arkham City was easy enough, there were several women in this hellhole already and to impress them all you had to do was save them from a much bigger thug with much different intentions.

But Dead Switch was not a typical woman. She was a former inmate of Arkham Asylum, she worked for Edward Nigma and she was, without a doubt, ruthless. Impressing someone like her was a much harder task, but Paxton had one thing working for him.

He was a closet romanticist.

He cursed his own daring as he used the end of a spoon in an attempt to pick out the putty of a window pane. He dangled a good few feet above what could become his watery grave with just a small misstep but taking the front door had not been an option. His targets were not too far from the window he was attempting to bypass, bathed in moonlight.

This had to be the absolute craziest thing he'd ever done and not expected to get laid at the end.

Last night, he'd had a nightmare about asking for a favour of that nature and she'd shot him, but not in the face. She'd laughed and let him bleed out on the floor as he clutched at his weeping groin and screamed.

It was absolutely terrifying, but at the same time, he'd woken up stiff as a board. The things she did to his head made him crazy. It was just a shame he didn't know if it was just plain old crazy or if it was crazy over her.

M_aybe she's doing it on purpose so she can see me in Arkham? _

He couldn't see her doing that, but then again, he couldn't see a woman like her hanging around with a rogue and wielding a gun like a damn professional. The phantom smell of gunpowder wrapped itself around his senses as he shuddered at the recollection of their first meeting.

In his lapse of concentration, the pane slipped from it's position and shattered on the floor. Paxton cursed and listened for the sounds of anyone having noticed the noise but all was silent.

_Maybe there is someone watching over me._ He thought as his arm reached in and down towards the latch. Gently, he swung the rusted iron inward and slipped into the lair of Poison Ivy.

The men of Gotham had learned to fear that crazy green witch and her plants as a matter of life or death, that wasn't to say that they didn't fantasise about her. In that tiny red Arkham top she all but demanded it, but Paxton knew there had been more than meets the eye to that, and he'd been proven right. She used her own sexual allure as a kind of nectar to draw in men. Those who didn't avoid her ended up dead, or worse, a new member of her zombie pets.

The room smelled of dust, mildew and soil. Whole sections of floorboards had been smashed out by overgrown stems and their broad leaves. On instinct, Paxton avoided touching them at all.

His prizes were across the room in a patch of haphazard soil. He pulled a knife from his belt and approached cautiously, aware of every squeak and groan of the bloated unsafe wood.

A dozen of the deepest, reddest roses from Ivy's collection, how much more impressive and romantic can you get, right?

Sweat was pouring down his back in the overwhelmingly warm environment Ivy kept for her babies.

Just as he reached out to cut one he heard a voice from behind that sent chills down his spine.

'You cut one of my babies and I will _kill_ you.'

Oh no.

Within seconds, vines had twined themselves around his feet. Painfully, he was flipped and dangled him in the air like a fish as he struggled but didn't dare lash out with the knife. Ivy loved her plants and attempting to harm them was possibly the most antagonising move one could do around her.

'What have we here? One of Harvey's little thugs? Did he send you here?' She looked him up and down, calculating, assessing and it scared him far more than he thought possible.

'I wasn't sent by Two-Face!' He pleaded. 'I'm here on my own, please don't kill me!'

'On your own? Attacking my precious babies? Tell me little thug, would you like a _kiss?_'

Oh _shit_.

'No, please! I only wanted some roses! Please!' He wailed. A look of confusion came over her features.

'Roses?' She hissed as she moved closer. 'Why would you need roses?'

The story all but blurted itself out. In between pleading for his life, he told her of Switch's challenge and the need for a dozen red roses and descended into a rant about how she drove him mad and was still driving him mad which drove him to once again start pleading for his life. Eventually, he fell silent under her stare.

Her face remained as stoic as ever, but she didn't speak, she looked to be thinking.

She shifted and moved towards the mound of dirt and away from his vision.

What was she going to do to him? Was she going to skin him with rose thorns? Poison him with venomous sap? Oh god she was gong to make him a zombie, wasn't she?

He was losing his nerve at the sounds of snipping from behind him. Maybe h should have just broken into that chocolatiers and made her some truffles or something.

He'd failed. He'd failed and he was going to die and all for a woman who hadn't even kissed him yet!

The snipping cam to an end and her light footsteps were coming back.

This was the end.

_Oh god, oh god! I don't wanna see grandma in hell, please!_

'Are these what you wanted little thug?' She purred.

_What? _

His eyes flew open.

She was standing in front of him with a dozen blood red roses, wrapped almost expertly in what looked like peeled rose stems.

'Y-yes?' He gibbered.

What was she going to make him pay for them? Blood?

The vines around his ankles slackened and he landed bonelessly on the floor, but he didn't stay there. He sprang up and backed away towards the window, swiftly. She followed with a look of boredom, still holding out the flowers.

'I…I can have them?' He quavered.

'Yes.'

Gingerly, he took the bouquet.

'Why are you helping?'

'It's all the same, in the end, little thug. It's just a question of entertainment.' Her mouth twisted into a smug smirk that reminded him a lot of Switch.

Without a second's hesitation, he bolted out of the window with the flowers.

It wasn't until he got to the ground that he realized he'd just survived an encounter with Poison Ivy and his knees began to shake.

By all rights he should have been dead.

The flowers shed a few petals as the wind drove a sheet of sleet into him.

They wouldn't last long in this weather and after what he'd just been through to get them; he was damn well going to deliver them.

* * *

He'd called for her to meet him outside of the Iceberg and at the ungodly hour it was, there was really no-one around to observe them, which was good.

She looked tired, and freezing cold. A blue tinge was evident on her lips as she spoke. 'You called?'

'You…You wanted impressive, right?'

A coy smile twisted her lip. 'Is that what this is about?'

'You drive me crazy, you know that?' He gaped.

'I am aware I'm capable of that.' She said evasively.

'You wanted impressive.'

'I did.' She nodded.

'Are these impressive enough?' He asked as he pulled the bouquet from behind his back.

The look on her face was going to keep him warm on many cold days to come. He just knew it. She wasn't able to hide it fast enough. It was amusing to him to watch her go through the emotions of shock, rapture and finally – a look of impress.

She took them, gingerly at first; aware of how fragile they were in the awful weather. 'Where did you get these?'

'I uh…I got them from Ivy.' He admitted.

'Ivy?' Switch's eyes looked him up and down as though for signs of zombification. The look succeeded in sending shivers through him in a much more pleasant manner than it had with Ivy. 'She didn't try to kiss you did she?'

'She did…' He admitted as a hand rubbed a beat on the back of his neck. 'But when she heard they were for you she kinda…Backed off. You know her?'

'We've done business before. A lovely woman provided you agree with everything she says.' Switch said absentmindedly.

'W-well?' He asked nervously. 'A-am I impressive?'

Switch ignored him, her eyes stared at the flowers for so long he thought she hadn't heard him and then in a burst of activity she grabbed him by the jacket and slammed him into the wall.

For a few seconds, he thought she was going to stab him, but instead he felt her yank up the rest of his mask. Two chilly lips met his and then were gone in swift, agonising succession as she stepped back, admiring her token.

'It's enough.' She said finally and turned to leave.

Goddamn that was terrifying, but incredibly, absolutely hot.

It was so worth it.


	5. Jealously Guarded

A/N: Maybe I need to put the rating up on this thing. It's gotten a lot more NC-17 than I'd anticipated. Even with my potty mouth xD Still, double S is sick and fluff makes her feel better. There's nothing like bad situations and bloody murder to cure the aches and pains. I'm pretty close to OD'ing on flu tablets so I apologise if this is over the top or nonsensical.

Batty, Readingstuff4fun and LaceySionis again- Thank you so much for the reviews! Have some jealousy and innuendo!

* * *

He told himself that he'd had enough of her games, that he wasn't going to be drawn into her ploys. She'd driven him half mad already with her coy smiles and boastful challenges.

She'd stitched him up to work for Riddler, she'd laughed at his pain, she had even challenged him to do something of worth in her eyes for only a smidgeon of affection and damn it all, every time he said, no more, he'd be drawn back in.

It was something of a mystery to him why he ran to her every beck and call.

Paxton was not a happy man, which was probably why he was drinking in the Iceberg with two old buddies who'd signed up to Penguin's manifesto.

'There's something going on between them.' Paxton muttered into his pint. On either side, George and Fred groaned into their own.

'Not the Riddler and Dead Switch speech, again.' George hissed to Fred over the top of his intoxicated friend.

Fred shrugged into his own watery brew, clear indications that while George was being driven up the walls, Fred could quite happily ignore it.

'He knows more about her than anyone else and they're always together!' Paxton replied morosely.

' 'S the Riddler.' Fred shrugged again. 'He knows everythin' and doesn't she work for him?'

'That's not the point.' Paxton sighed. 'I guess you wouldn't understand.'

'Nah, mate we wouldn't. We're not dating a crazy.' George muttered.

'_What_ did you say?' Paxton snarled warningly. Fred took an instant interest into his own pint as George backpedalled hurriedly in an attempt to crawl out of the hole he'd just dug.

It was at that point that the point of conversation walked into the bar and dusted down her jacket.

He was just about to draw her attention when he noticed the figure that stepped in behind her and slumped into his seat. George noted his mood and, hoping to redeem himself somewhat, asked the obvious question. 'You not going to go see your girlfriend Pax?'

'She's with Riddler.' He sulked.

George and Fred gave him a look of pity and said nothing further on the subject, especially after he drained his half full pint and waved for another.

They tried over the course of an hour to get him out of the foul mood he'd put himself in, it was practically hanging over the three of them, but he refused to be drawn on any other subject. He sat and stared a hole into the wall and he drank.

By the time Riddler re-emerged and left the Iceberg, he'd drank three more pints and sank even further into his angry mood. Switch wasn't with him this time.

There was something going on. Something unsaid between them. He wasn't an idiot and he wasn't deaf either, but whenever he brought it up, she'd remind him about the last romantic fling she had and his nerve just left him.

She wanted him out of her business, as far away as can be and he just didn't understand why.

What could be so important that she'd threaten to shoot him if he dug any deeper into her past?

Sometimes, he thought about storming into that cesspool Riddler called a hideout and demanding an answer from him but a more rational side of him knew he'd never see sunlight again.

And then she'd come back from the upper echelons of Penguin's operation with a sour look on her face and a hanger on looking for attention. As she stormed towards the doors, they came close enough for him to hear what was going on.

'C'mon bitch, you know you want this.'

'About as much as I want Chlamydia.' Switch spat back but the sarcasm had come with a price. She'd slowed enough for him to grab her and throw her into a wall.

Something in his blood fizzled as he watched her features flicker from passive, to alarm and then settled on angry. It practically lit him on fire when the persistent wretch grabbed hold of her jaw and forced her lips to meet his.

George and Fred were saying something to him, but he ignored them. _No-one _did that to his girlfriend, not after what he'd been through to get her, not in fucking _front_ of him.

It must have been the alcohol talking because the guy was huge. In seconds, Paxton had pulled him away from her. 'That's my girlfriend!' He hissed.

'Yeah? Well little man, wait yer turn.' He replied with a smirk and turned back to face the woman he'd pinned to the wall.

That only riled Paxton further.

He grabbed the thug again as George and Fred watched the macho display in stunned bewilderment and dragged him down to his level. 'She's not a piece of meat.' Paxton hissed.

'Could have fooled me.' He laughed.

That was about all Paxton was going to take. He punched him, hard. The thug grunted and flew back.

The bar seemed to have fallen silent as the pestering thug gingerly touched his nose and winced. 'You fuckin asshole.' He growled at Paxton.

'He didn't mean it, Rogers!' Fred pleaded from the bar, far enough to avoid being drawn in but close enough to offer aid to a dead man walking.

'The fuck he didn't' Rogers replied. 'He's fuckin' _dead_.'

He looked down to meet a blade coming up.

Switch grunted triumphantly in the stunned silence and pulled the sharpened steel through his throat properly as he gurgled.

She pulled back and wiped the blade down before she slid it back into the niche in her boot.

'Is he dead?' Paxton asked unsympathetically.

'How the hell am I meant to tell?' She replied angrily. 'If he isn't, he probably won't be able to say a damn thing.'

'You're fuckin' evil sometimes, Switch.' Paxton remarked sheepishly.

'Sir Paxton, defender of murderers.' She teased sarcastically. 'Did you mean all that?'

'All what?' He asked as she stepped over the prone body of Rogers and moved towards him. Half her face and much of the cloth of her jacket were saturated in his blood. It looked as though she'd severed one of his arteries, in which case he was probably dead.

'The whole "Hands off my girlfriend!" routine. Did you mean it?' Her tone dropped to something a lot darker.

'Yes.' He answered.

'Jealous?' She purred.

'A little.'

'_Aggressive?_' She pushed. Something deep and primal in him sniffed an underlying meaning. Something else entirely was happening, with each word she moved closer and closer until she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him close.

'Oh yeah.'

The heat of her lips tickled his ear as she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. 'You, me, Amusement mile, _right now_.'

Something was happening alright. He pulled back in shock to see a sly smile on her face. Her pupils were dilated in lust and adrenaline. 'If you hurry, I'll do that thing we talked about.'

'The one with the double jointed-' He began until she shushed him.

'_That one_.'

Secrets and jealousy all but fled from his thoughts as he rushed back to the bar for his coat. George and Fred gave him a look of absolute disbelief as he pawed it on.

'She just killed someone, man!' Fred pleaded.

Paxton scoffed. 'Lads, crazy's the best kind to have.'

A whistle caught his attention and he looked up to see her waiting at the doors. A bolt of panic raced through him as she walked out. 'Coming!' He yelled and lurched towards the doors after her.


	6. Accusations and arguments

A/N: Alright, so Stitcher's _finally_ off the meds and her head's a lot clearer! Lets get to the nitty gritty!

Warning for spousal abuse and a ton of swearing! When crazy people fight, they don't hold back, Paxton would do well to remember that, girlfriend or not. ;)

I've also decided their couple song is Black Eyed Peas - Shut Up. It just fits.

* * *

'How many times do I have to tell you I am not sleeping with him?' She shrieked as he paced up and down in front of her. 'I don't mix business with pleasure!' The look he gave her made it clear that mixing business and pleasure was not out of her comfort zone. 'Oh don't give me that look! I fucking hate that look!' She spat.

'What look? What fucking _look_?' He snarled. His hands clenched and unclenched to themselves.

'You don't believe me!' She threw her hands up in the air. 'And you're blocking my exit!'

'You're at his beck and call! Damnit Switch, we were in the middle of something back there!' He bemoaned. 'And you dump me like I'm goddamn diseased as soon as he calls!'

'It's my job to be at his beck and call, Paxton!' She defended.

'You couldn't have stalled?' He pleaded with her. He was absolutely annoyed at Edward Nigma. He was the third person in their relationship and while Paxton tried desperately to understand that Switch would run to Riddler first, he couldn't and he didn't like being second. 'What kind of information does he have on you, Switch? I can get rid of it!'

Switch froze in the middle of her counter-argument. He saw her eyes narrow dangerously. 'I thought I told you to drop any subject regarding my business?' She hissed.

'You're my girlfriend Switch, I want to help you! If he's holding something over you-' A high, cruel laugh ground him to a halt. She was laughing at him, but why?

'Oh my god, you think he's blackmailing me into doing this?' She seemed both incredulous and amused at his stupidity. Paxton however, didn't find it at all amusing. He was absolutely serious. He wanted to know what he was missing.

Her phone cut through the silence and she fumbled with it as it trilled the Macarena to a laden atmosphere. 'Hello? Yes, yes! I'm on my way! I'm sorry I…' She held her phone from her head for a few seconds as the verbal barrage burned over the line. Her eyes found his and narrowed. 'Thanks. Now I'm in serious shit.' She put the phone back to her ear gingerly as the crackling shouts died down. 'Yes, yes of course I was listening! I can't- Yes. I'll be there in twenty. Yes, sir.'

She ended the call with a disgusted look on her face and moved forward to pass, but Paxton was not done with her, not in the least. He grabbed her arm in a tight grip, not even bothering to temper his painful hold. 'We aren't finished arguing Switch!'

She hardly hesitated in her reaction; she pulled an arm back and drove the heel of her hand into his throat.

The flex and bend of his windpipe caused him to choke and splutter at the burning sensations. He collapsed to the floor a twitching, gulping mess. Tears stung his eyes as he struggled to draw breath. She calmly stepped over him and pushed open the door to Amusement Mile. Fat grey snowflakes drifted into one of the few isolated and hidden places in Arkham City but she didn't immediately turn to leave, she looked down at him as he spluttered. 'Stay out of my business, that includes my business with Riddler.'

He was going to find out what she was hiding, but who would know more about her than the man she worked for?

…Didn't she mention a best friend? She hung around with Scarecrow. Scarecrow was right up there with Joker for terrifying. He didn't want to mess with a man like that. He coughed and instinctively cupped a hand over his mouth, it came away red with mucus and blood.

_She'd hit him so hard in the throat that he was bleeding internally. _

He was going to fucking know. Whatever she was trying to hide from him, he was going to know.


	7. Checkmate

A/N: So I've changed things up for this ending. I was torn between two different ones and was encouraged to write both, so I did. Do tell me which ending you preferred, I'm interested in knowing.

It gets (if possible) a little darker here. A regular reader of my stories will know Switch has it out for Roland Daggett, _really_ has it out for him. One day I may just get around to telling you lovely readers_ why. _Also: More swearing!

* * *

'_So…Who's Roland, Debs?' _

He knew the words had hit her hard; Switch froze and turned slowly to look at Paxton's smug face. This was worth the look of sheer fury she was throwing him. 'I told you not to snoop in my business.' She seethed.

'It isn't hard, you know. I learned quite a bit more from this super-prison than any other. Did you know The Riddler had a girlfriend working for Scarecrow?'

'_Clarice_ told you?' Switch seethed suspiciously.

'You don't have to be Dead Switch around me, you know.' He said sympathetically. 'You can be plain old Deborah Swain-'

That proved to be a mistake. If he'd thought Switch would have just talked to him like a civilized woman, he expected way too much. She launched herself at him with absolutely no warning. He held her at bay by the shoulders, barely.

'She was a fucking victim!' Switch screamed. 'I'm not!' She was shaking with rage and thrashing in his grip. 'She…_She isn't me anymore_.' Her tone suddenly evened out and she relaxed, albeit forcibly. 'I am not a naïve little research assistant.' When she looked up at him, he could see the raw pain and anger in her eyes. It was as if the mere suggestion that she had once been fragile and malleable was an unthinkable character flaw for her and anyone who had hopes of being close to her could not and should not see that side.

Maybe he had played too much with fire. Maybe it was time to step back a little. He gently released her shoulders and moved back warily. 'Alright, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-' He expected her to push the issue and flay him both physically and verbally. In such rages she was entirely capable of it and her outbursts of violence could be sudden, as it had been mere minutes ago. However she simply turned her attention to the floor before she swung on her heel and walked away.

That was worse than trying to strangle him. It was like she was giving up on their relationship. It was like she was walking away from him and while he could accept her homicidal tendencies; her apathy was something he couldn't leave alone.

He grabbed her shoulder and forced her to turn and look at him. He dodged the blade she'd normally kept in her boot and intercepted her second slash at the wrist. She howled in anger and clawed at his other hand as he forced her to back up. 'Let go! Let fucking go! I'll kill you! I'm not your fucking pity charity!' She screamed at him.

'No, you're fucking crazy!' Paxton yelled back and slammed her against the slimy brick of an abandoned shop. 'Being someone who was betrayed doesn't make you a charity case, Switch! Christ, I understand, I fucking understand why you want this Daggett guy so badly. I get it! I want to help you!'

'Fuck you!' She spat angrily. 'You don't know shit! After everything I've sacrificed to destroy that monster, you're not getting in my fucking way!'

'I don't want to be in your way.' His tone lowered to something closer to loving. 'I want to help you. I love you Switch, you drive me crazy but I love you! I know in there somewhere is someone capable of loving back.'

She wasn't refuting what he said, but she wouldn't look him in the eye anymore. As though hearing her own life, her own past told to her by another person was shameful.

'Deborah…Debbie, look at me.' He pleaded.

Reluctantly, she tilted her head up at him.

'Let me help you.' He begged her. 'We can do this together. Let me in.'

**[For a fluffy ending, skip to chapter 9.]**

**[For the ending I originally envisioned, check out the next chapter!]**


	8. Destructive tendencies

A/N: This is _**not**_ the happy ending, you've been warned folks! This chapter explores the end of the road for Paxton!

* * *

'_Deborah…Debbie, look at me.' He pleaded. _

_Reluctantly, she tilted her head up at him. _

'_Let me help you.' He begged her. 'We can do this together. Let me in.' _

His hands let go of her wrists and travelled up her shivering arms. 'Will you let me in now?' He begged quietly.

She looked up at him, a slow, shy smile spread across her features. He smiled back encouragingly.

Steel flashed as his fingers dug into her upper arms, but that hardly seemed to bother her as she wrenched the bloody blade out of the side of his skull and drove it into his neck. She drew it back out and wiped it on his coat as Paxton sagged to the ground, held upright only by her knees.

She really didn't like having to murder people like that, but sometimes there was no choice. Dead Switch had sacrificed too much and done so much harm to get this far and she wasn't about to let someone in to destroy her plans. She was so close to ending Roland Daggett, she didn't need help, nor did she want it.

She wanted revenge.

The bruises on her arms were already bubbling up into perfect fingerprints, she could feel it, but they wouldn't last very long. Her little trick ability would see to that. It was about all those freeloaders in her bloodstream were good for. She sighed and kicked back the recent corpse of Paxton. The body fell into the snow without much effort and bled, turning innocent white flakes into a tide of red sin.

She stepped over it and ignored the surprised expression on his face as she rummaged for her phone.

Clarice answered after the third ring. 'Hey!' She sang as Switch made her way back towards the Bowery. 'Your boyfriend was just here-'

'I know.'

'Is there something wrong?' Reaper asked at Switch's tone.

'Change your passwords Clarice, or stop writing them down.' Switch sighed. She idly kicked a snowdrift in passing.

'Something _is_ wrong.' Clarice's voice had turned serious. 'What happened?'

'He got too close.' Switch admitted.

'Oh god, what did you do to him?'

'What the fuck do you think I did to him, 'Rice? I slit his throat cause I'm so fucking emotionally retarded that was all I could think to do.' She kicked a boarded door viciously which caused several thugs to turn and watch her as she passed. No-one approached her, probably due to the blood that was soaking into her coat.

'Aw man, Switch. I'm sorry.' Clarice groaned down the line. 'I'm at the iceberg later, if you want to meet up?'

'Sure.' She sighed. Well, it wasn't like she had anything better to do now, was it?

Clarice was already at the bar with a drink as Switch slipped into the stool beside her and waved for the barman's attention. Without even asking, the thug manning the bar drew a house vodka and passed it over. Switch rummaged in her pockets to pay for the drink but found he was loathe to accept her money.

So on top of having the argument to end all arguments and slitting her boyfriend's throat, now her money wasn't good enough?! 'What the hell is wrong with my money?' Switch snarled.

'N-nothing Ma'am, it's just…S-somebody already paid!' He garbled.

Switch raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Reaper but _she_ frowned and shook her head. 'No-one pays for my drinks, idiot!' Switch snapped.

'He uh…He left this.' The thug reached under the varnished wood and flipped a card onto the bar. 'M-mister Penguin says it's legit.'

The card was black with a bright green question mark in the centre.

For a moment, Switch stared at the card, and then she chuckled and the chuckle morphed into a laugh. 'And he says he doesn't care.'

Clarice smirked down at her drink. Just what Switch needed, an unlimited bar tab.


	9. Somewhere deep inside

A/N: The good ending was the hardest one to do in my opinion. I hope it's the fluffy nding you imagined! Man I suck at romance.

* * *

_Deborah…Debbie, look at me.' He pleaded._

_Reluctantly, she tilted her head up at him. _

'_Let me help you.' He begged her. 'We can do this together. Let me in.' _

He could see his own reflection swimming in her eyes as they pooled with tears. Paxton Difornio had never seen Dead Switch cry, Not actual tears. Oh sure, she'd cried out in pain and in anger but never….Never just cried. The warm tears dripped down her crimson cheeks and for a few seconds she looked absolutely vulnerable.

'Oh, oh god, am I _crying?!_' She seethed to herself and attempted to wipe the tears away but Paxton grabbed her and drew her in for the most impassioned kiss he'd ever given a woman, even if that woman happened to be a murdering psychopath. Eventually they had to break for air.

'Debbie.' He whispered, as though trying out the unfamiliar name. She shuddered against him.

'Don't call me that. It sounds wrong.' She whispered.

'Why?' He chuckled. 'It's your name.'

'It's what doctors and psychologists call me.' She sneered.

His arm went around her back and pulled her away from the chilly wall. She froze as he dropped her other arm and wrapped both of his around her. 'Do you think you could ever get used to hearing it from me?' He whispered into her ear.

'Fuck no; don't get weird on me Pax.' She snorted and pushed him away with a sly smile.

'Hey, where do you think you're going?' He laughed and wrapped his arms around her bony waist. His chin rested in the crook of her neck and surprisingly, this time she didn't attempt to push him away. It was familiar to him, but something felt off. Something wasn't right, he just couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

'So,' He grinned uncertainly in the silence. 'Are we good?'

'That depends.' She replied cryptically.

'On?'

'How fast can you get away from Dent?' She shifted and turned. For a second she looked uncertain but eventually wrapped her hands around his neck. He accepted her awkward embrace and sighed happily.

Suddenly, he remembered what had changed about her.

'Did….Did you change your perfume or something?' He asked.

'I started using a different body lotion.' She replied.

'I don't fucking like it, go back to coconuts.'

He felt the vibrations of her laughter against his chest. 'It's a deal.'

He wouldn't have traded that moment for all the money in Penguin's vault. It was a perfect blossom of affection in the wastes of humanity. They may have been a murderer and thug, but they at least had each other.

There was someone out there for everyone after all.

There had to be if a loony like Zsasz had a girlfriend.


End file.
